Tamora Pierce - Protector Of The Small 2 - Page

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Tamora Pierce

Protector of the Small 02

Page

"Ladies have no place bearing arms…"

…so say many in the kingdom of Tortall. Of course, that hasn't stopped Keladry of Mindelan from pursuing her

dream of becoming a knight.

In this second book of the Protector of the Small quartet, Kel's hardships continue as she fights the prejudices that

come with being a girl while maintaining the rigorous training of a page. Kels skills aren't the only things that are

developing. Her feelings for her best friend, Neal, are also changing…in a very uncomfortable way. Luckily, Kel has

some new allies, including an ugly but lovable dog and an abused young woman whom she teaches self-defense. She

also discovers a new talent when a group of pages is trapped by bandits and suddenly the other pages must call on

the only "lady" to lead them.

ISBN 0-679-88915-9

This e-book is not for sale!!!

one

PAGE KELADRY

Fall that year was warm. Heat lay in a blanket over the basin of the River Olorun, where the

capital of Tortall covered the banks. No breath of air stirred the pennants and flags on their poles.

The river itself was a band of glass, without a breeze anywhere to ruffle its shining surface.

Traffic in the city moved as if the air were thick honey. No one with sense cared to rush.

Behind the royal palace, eleven-year-old Keladry of Mindelan stared at the rising ground that

led from the training yards to the pages' wing and decided that she had no sense. She felt as if

she'd let people beat her with mallets all morning. Surely it was too hot for her to do as she

normally did - run up that hill to reach her rooms and bathe. After all, she would be the only one

to know if she walked today.

Who would think this cursed harness would make such a difference? she wondered, reaching

under her canvas practice coat to finger broad leather straps. At some point during her first year

as page, she had learned that second-, third-, and fourth-years wore weighted harnesses, and that

more weights were added every four months, but she had never considered it in terms of herself.

Now she wished that she had donned something of the kind in the empty summer months, when

she made the daily trek to the palace to keep up her training. If she had, she wouldn't ache so

much now.

She wiped her sleeve over her forehead. It's not even like you're carrying a lot of weight, she

scolded herself. Eight little disks - maybe two pounds in lead. You trained last year and all

summer with lead-weighted weapons, just to build your strength. This can't be that different!

But it was. Hand-to-hand combat, staff work, archery, and riding took extra effort with two

pounds of lead hanging on her shoulders, chest, and back. I've got to run, she told herself wearily.

If I don't move soon, I'll be late to wash and late to lunch, and Lord Wyldon will give me

punishment work. So heat or no, I have to go up that hill. I may as well run it.

She waited a moment more, steeling herself. She hated this run. That slowly rising ground was

torture on her legs even last spring, when she'd been running it off and on for more than half a

year.

No stranger, looking at her, would have thought this disheveled girl was the sort to cause a

storm of argument at court. She had a dreamer's quiet hazel eyes, framed in long lashes, and plain

brown hair that she wore cropped as short as a boy's. Her nose was small and delicate, her skin

tan and dusted with freckles. She was big for a girl of eleven, five feet three inches tall and

solidly built. Only someone who looked closely at her calm face would detect a spark in her leval

gaze, and determination in her mouth and chin.

At last she groaned and began to trot up the hill. Her path took her behind the mews, the

kennels, and the forges. Men and women in palace livery and servants' garb waved as she ran

past. A woman told some kennel workers, "Looka here - tol' ya she'd be back!"

Kel smiled through pouring sweat. No one had thought that the old-fashioned training master

would allow the first-known girl page in over a century to stay after her first year. When Lord

Wyldon surprised the world and allowed Kel to stay, many had assumed Kel would "come to her

senses" and drop out over the summer holiday.

You'd think by now they'd know I won't quit, she thought as she toiled on up the hill.

She was lurching when she reached the kitchen gardens, her shortcut to the pages' wing. There

she had to catch her breath. An upended bucket did for a seat. She inhaled the scents of

marjoram, sage, and thyme, massaging her calf muscles. For the hundredth time she wished she

could use the palace baths as the boys did, instead of having to go all the way to her room to

wash up.

"Hi! You!" cried a male voice from the direction of the kitchens. "Come back with those

sausages!"

Kel got to her feet. A cook raced out of the kitchen, waving a meat cleaver. Empty beanpoles,

stripped after the harvest, went flying as he crashed through them. Metal flashed as the cleaver

chopped through the air. The man doubled back and ran on, plainly chasing something far smaller

than he. Once he stumbled; once he dropped the cleaver. On he came, cursing.

The dog he pursued raced toward Kel. A string of fat sausages hung from his jaws. With a last

burst of speed, the animal ducked behind Kel.

The cook charged them, cleaver raised. "I'll kill you this time!" he screeched, face crimson

with fury.

Kel put her hands on her hips. "Me or the dog?"

"Out of the way, page!" he snarled, circling to her left. "He's stolen his last meal!"

As she turned to keep herself between the man and his prey, Kel glanced behind her. The dog

huddled by her seat, gobbling his catch.

"Stop right there," Kel ordered the man.

"Move, or I'll report this to my lord Wyldon," he snapped. "I'll get that mongrel good and

proper!"

Kel gathered dog and sausages up in her arms. "You'll do no such thing," she retorted. The dog,

knowing what was important, continued to gorge.

"You'll hand that animal over now, my lad, if you know what's right," the servant told her.

"He's naught but a thieving stray. He's got to be stopped."

"With a meat cleaver?" demanded Kel.

"If that's what it takes."

"No," she said flatly. "No killing. I'll see to it the dog doesn't steal from you."

"Sausages is worth money! Who's to pay for them? Not me!"

Kel reached instinctively for her belt and sighed, impatient with herself. She didn't wear her

purse with training clothes. "Go to Salma Aynnar, in charge of the pages' wing," she said loftily.

"Tell her Keladry of Mindelan requests that she pay you the cost of these sausages from my

pocket money. And you'd better not overcharge her," she added.

"Kel…Oh, Mithros's" - he looked at her and changed what he'd been about to say - "shield.

You're the girl. Being softhearted will do you no good, mistress," he informed her. "Be sure I'll

get my money. And if I see that animal here again" - he pointed at Kel's armful - "I'll chop him up

for cat-meat, see if I won't!"

He thrust his cleaver into his belt and stomped back to the kitchens, muttering. Kel adjusted her

hold on the dog and his prize and headed for the pages' wing. "We aren't allowed pets, you

know," she informed her passenger. "With my luck, all those sausages will make you sick, and

I'll have to clean it up." She passed through an open door into the cool stone halls of the palace.

As she trotted along, she examined her armful.

The dog's left ear was only a tatter. He was gray-white for the most part; black splotches

adorned the end of his nose, his only whole ear, and his rump. The rest of him was scars, healing

scrapes, and staring ribs. His sausages eaten, he peered up into her face with two small, black,

triangular eyes and licked her. His tail, broken in two places and healed crookedly, beat her arm.

"I am not your friend," Kel said as she reached her door. "I don't even like you. Don't get

attached."

She put him down, expecting him to flee. Instead, the dog sat, tail gently wagging. Kel put her

key in the lock and whispered her name, releasing the magic locks that protected her from

unwanted visitors. The year before, the boys had welcomed her by ruining her room and writing

on her walls, making such protections necessary. While she had made friends among the pages

since that time, there were still boys who would play mean tricks to make her leave.

She followed the dog into the two rooms that were her palace home and halted. Two servants

awaited her before the hearth. One she knew well: Gower, the long-faced, gloomy man who

cleaned her rooms and fetched hot water for washing up and baths. The other was a short, plump,

dark girl with crisp black hair worn neatly pinned in a bun. She was quite pretty, with huge

brown eyes and full lips. Kel didn't know her, but she was dressed like a servant in a dark skirt

and a white blouse and apron. On that hot day she wore the sleeves long and buttoned at the

wrist.

Kel waited, uncertain. Gower would surely report the dog to Salma. Kel was trying to decide

how much to bribe him not to when he coughed and said, "Excuse me, Page Keladry, but I - we -

that is…" He shook his head, ignoring the dog, who sniffed at him. "Might I introduce my niece,

Lalasa?"

The girl dipped a curtsy, glancing up at Kel with eyes as frightened as a cornered doe's. She

was just an inch taller than Kel, and only a few years older.

"How do you do," Kel said politely. "Gower, I'm in a bit of a rush - "

"A moment, Page Keladry," Gower replied. "Just a moment of your time."

In the year he had waited on her, Gower had never asked for anything. Kel sat on her bed. "All

right." She took off her practice jacket and harness as Gower talked.

His voice was as glum as if he described a funeral. "Lalasa is all alone but for me. I thought she

might do well in the palace, and she might, one day, but…"

Kel looked at him under her bangs as she pulled at one of her boots. Suddenly Lalasa was

there, her small hands firm around the heel and upper. She drew the boot off carefully.

"She's country-bred, not like these bold city girls," Gower explained. "When city girls act shy,

well, men hereabouts think they want to be chased. Lalasa's been… frightened." Lalasa did not

meet Kel's eyes as she removed the other boot and Kel's stockings. "If it's this way for her in the

palace, the city would be worse," Gower went on. "I thought you might be looking to hire a

maid."

Kel blinked at Gower. Pages and squires were allowed to hire their own servants, but having

them cost money. While Kel had a tidy sum placed with Salma, against the day that she might get

enough free time to visit the markets, she wasn't certain that she could afford a maid. She could

write to her parents, who had remained in Corus to present two of Kel's sisters at court that fall.

Kel wasn't sure their budget, strained by the costs of formal dresses and the town house, held

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TamoraPierceProtectoroftheSmall02Page"Ladieshavenoplacebearingarms…"…sosaymanyinthekingdomofTortall.Ofcourse,thathasn'tstoppedKeladryofMindelanfrompursuingherdreamofbecomingaknight.InthissecondbookoftheProtectoroftheSmallquartet,Kel'shardshipscontinueasshefightstheprejudicesthatcomewithbeingagirlwhi...

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